When they buried the children
What they didn’t know
They were lovingly embraced by the land
Held and cradled in a mother’s heart
The trees wept for them, with the wind
they sang mourning songs their mother’s
didn’t know to sing
bending branches to touch the earth
The Creator cried for them
the tears falling like rain.
Mother Earth held them
Until they could be found.
Now our voices sing the mourning songs,
With the trees, the wind, light sacred fire
Ensure they are never forgotten as we sing
- abigail echo-hawk